


Christmas Market

by talkingtothesky



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-12-12 03:29:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/pseuds/talkingtothesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finding themselves in the future, Sam and Gene make the most of the festivities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Market

"Come on, Guv." Sam crouched down in front of him, cajoling smile and sympathetic eyes. "I know the city's really different. But it'll be fun, I promise you. There's the beer tent, and -"

 

"Got all the booze I need right here, ta." Gene clutched the bottle in his lap and stretched his legs. It was warm in Sam's flat, even though the colour scheme was mostly white and blue and silver, and he had no desire to go wandering around that nuthouse version of Manchester on a freezing December afternoon.

 

He hadn't been able to believe it, when they'd first woken up here together. Still couldn't, not really. And it wasn't just the scenery that was different. Sam was suddenly in his element, totally at ease amongst all these fancy gadgets which seemed utterly pointless to Gene. Some things made more sense now, though. Lots of things Sam had mentioned back in the real world, every time he'd run his mouth off and had to correct himself when he remembered nobody had a clue what CCTV or ASBO meant. It was alright, in a way, to see sides to Sam he'd never contemplated existing, but at the cost of Gene's own confusion and...outdatedness. He wasn't even Sam's Guv anymore, Sam just called him that out of habit, and especially when he was trying to get his own way. 

 

Like now, for instance. The little git was resting his hands on Gene's knees, waffling on about diversity and sausages. Eventually, he finished with: "Please, Gene. You were always the one making me come down the pub when I was moping in that shithole of a flat and trying to wake up here again. And I was glad you did, in the end." 

 

Gene sighed. It was clear Sam wasn't going to stop nagging until he capitulated. He rolled his eyes and nodded reluctantly, at which point Sam quickly knelt up to kiss him soundly. "Thank you," he said quietly, against Gene's cheek.

 

Gene shrugged and rubbed Sam's back. "S'fine. Now, what have you done with my coat?"

 

\---

 

One of the first things Sam did was buy a ridiculous woolly hat, giant ear flaps and all. He yanked it down onto Gene's head, saying it reminded him a bit of one Gene had worn in a giant freezer they'd once locked a suspect in. Gene batted him away and thrust it back into his hands. He wasn't nearly cold enough to wear something that itchy and pink. Sam scowled at him, then started to chuckle, laughter gradually building in him until he was doubled over clutching his stomach.

 

Gene looked around nervously. Even in the future Sam wasn't about to quit embarrassing him. Wonderful. "...What?" He dared to ask, fists clenched at his sides.

 

"You..." Sam gasped, wiping his eyes. As his mirth began to burn out, he stepped in closer and reached up. Gene flinched a bit, but Sam didn't try to put the hat on him again. "Hair's sticking up all over the place," he gleefully explained, fingers busy rearranging Gene's fringe and combing steadily backwards. By the time Sam'd finished pawing at him, Gene's face was feeling decidedly hot. None of the bustling crowds paid them a second glance, but still. 

 

\---

 

Gene felt a bit better when they reached some food stands instead of homemade trinkets ones. The giant sausages Sam had talked about were there, as was a bloke in eyeliner making fancy pancakes on the spot. Sam explained they were called crêpes, but Gene didn't care. He had his absolutely slathered in chocolate and honey and munched happily away while Sam muttered about his incorrigible sweet tooth. Only jealous, he was.

 

\--- 

 

After a brief incident in which they were somehow separated in the throng of shoppers and Sam attempted to call him on the tiny phone Gene hadn't bothered to learn how to use yet, Sam took to anxiously holding his hand as they wandered through the rest of the festivities. Gene's humiliation was complete. He got a little of his own back when they progressed to the bars and Sam couldn't keep up with his drinking pace no matter how hard he tried. Eventually they staggered back to the flat, chilly but full of booze and burgers and Sam attempting to carry a stuffed toy animal under one arm, a joke present from Gene as payback for the hat.

 

"Alright?" Sam asked him sincerely as Gene took off his coat and slumped down on the couch. Gene allowed himself to smile tiredly up at him. For once he hadn't been frowned at for un-politically correct comments, or used the wrong change, or been reminded how much he didn't belong here. He'd done a passable job of pretending he hadn't grown up in the forties. He'd learn to adjust to all this, apparently. Part of him wasn't entirely overjoyed about that, he still wanted to get back to his own time, but not if Sam weren't willing to come with him. Sam, who was trying to curl up into him and shoving at Gene to make space. Gene took a deep, calm breath as the warmth from Sam's body seeped into his stomach. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make.


End file.
